Franklin First United Methodist Church

On a little triangular piece of land where Fifth Avenue meets Church Street stands one of Franklin’s most treasured old churches. Its red brick walls, pointed Gothic windows, and graceful steeple have watched over downtown for more than 150 years. But the story of Franklin First United Methodist Church began long before those walls were built. In 1799, the very year Franklin was founded, Abram Maury set aside land for a Methodist meeting house. It became the town’s first congregation, gathering in a simple brick building near the Harpeth River. In 1812, Francis Asbury, one of the founding fathers of American Methodism, came to Franklin and preached to the little congregation. It was a remarkable beginning for a church that would become such an enduring part of the town.

The congregation eventually moved to a larger church at Second Avenue and Church Street, where it would witness one of the darkest chapters in Franklin’s history. Following the terrible Battle of Franklin on November 30, 1864, Federal soldiers occupied the building, using it as a hospital for the wounded. Like so many of Franklin’s churches, it became a place where the suffering of war was impossible to escape. Church records and membership rolls were lost during those troubled years. When peace finally returned, the congregation began looking toward a new beginning. In 1869, land was purchased at Fifth Avenue and Church Street, and by 1871 the beautiful sanctuary we know today was completed. Its congregation numbered just 238 souls.

There is something especially wonderful about the craftsmanship hidden inside this old church. The pews were made by a local carpenter whose shop stood near Franklin’s railroad depot. Great oak logs arrived by wagon and were carefully shaped into graceful wooden benches, each one slightly different to fit the unusual angles of the sanctuary. The tall Gothic windows were filled with handmade colored glass, its little waves and imperfections catching the sunlight just as they did more than a century ago. Even the bricks have a story. They were made from mud gathered along the Harpeth River, then painted white when the church was first built. Only later did the building take on the familiar red appearance that Franklin knows today. The original pulpit and communion rail remain, quiet reminders of the generations who have worshiped here.

One can only imagine the Christmas mornings this little church has known. Long before electric lights brightened Franklin’s streets, families would have made their way through the winter cold, dressed in their Sunday best, to gather beneath those beautiful stained-glass windows. The familiar words of Christmas hymns would have filled the sanctuary, just as they do today. Children grew up here, couples exchanged wedding vows, and families returned year after year to celebrate the season together. Outside, the town changed around them, but inside those old brick walls, Christmas remained a time for familiar faces, cherished traditions, and the comforting promise of another year.

Even the church’s steeple has a story of loss and renewal. The original steeple was destroyed during the 1920s, leaving the old sanctuary without its crowning feature for more than seventy years. In 1995, during a careful restoration, the bell tower was repaired and the long-missing steeple finally returned to its rightful place above Fifth Avenue. In 2015, the congregation opened a larger campus on the north side of Franklin, but the historic sanctuary was not forgotten. Worship continues within its old walls, where the handmade pews, colorful windows, and familiar hymns still connect the present with the past. And when Christmas comes to Franklin, there is something reassuring about seeing that old steeple rising above the rooftops, just as it has for generations, reminding the town of the faith, hope, and traditions that helped build it.